


It's ok, you're good. You're good, breathe.

by playlike-agirl (playlikeagirl)



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playlikeagirl/pseuds/playlike-agirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're ok Christen, it's ok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's ok, you're good. You're good, breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I did this. I'm sorry.  
> I just have a lot of feelings and Christen Press is an angel.  
> I also listened to 'Torch Song' by Shady Bard when I wrote this, so if you want to feel all the feels, listen to that as you read.

_It’s ok, you’re good. You’re good, breathe._

But she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t calm down. She’d missed, she’d missed the penalty and now the weight of the world was on her shoulders, and the dreams of a nation were to be crushed if Sweden scored now. She never wanted  _this_. She never wanted to take this final penalty kick, she knew she wasn’t in the right mindset to be such a decisive factor, but she stepped up to the spot and she did it anyway because this was her team, this was her Olympics, but she’d missed. She’d missed and she could see Julie and the rest of the team looking at her in concern. She tried to match her breathing to Julie’s, to follow the motions of her hand on her heart, to stop the tears from falling, but she couldn’t. It was all too much; her thoughts were swirling round in her head and she didn’t think she could cope with them. Her head was never empty, her brain never inactive; there was always something to worry about, something to focus on. There was always the fear of not being good enough, and Christen felt like this fear had suddenly become a reality. Christen knew from past experience, from her childhood and teenage years that seemed to be full of anxiety and the weight of expectations, that sometimes things just don’t go your way. Sometimes you can put in 110% when the coaches would turn around and say,  _sorry, but we needed 111%._  Sometimes the tears don’t stop flowing and the world feels like its closing in on you. Sometimes you can’t run from the thoughts in your head that are telling you that you are weak, a failure, not good enough, not worth it. Sometimes nothing is ok. Sometimes the world is closing in on you and you can’t breathe, you can’t fill your lungs up with air because the breath is catching in your throat and your tears are hot down your cheeks. Sometimes things are not ok. Sometimes the football pitch doesn’t feel like home. Sometimes it feels like a prison, a cage, a trap that you can’t get out of. And sometimes, sometimes all you need is a hug or a reassuring touch. Sometimes you just need her arms around you as she rocks you to sleep whispering that everything’s going to be ok,  _it’s all going to be ok Christen. I promise you. You’re amazing, I love you, and it’s all going to be ok_. Because now it didn’t feel like it, this pitch felt like it was pulling her under and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to let it. 

* * *

She feels Meghan’s arms around her and Ali wrapping her up into a hug, but she still feels numb. They were out. They’d lost. They were going home. She hangs her head, wanting so much to see Tobin, to feel Tobin’s presence next to her to calm her down but she can’t bring herself to do it. Can’t bring herself to see the disappointment in Tobin’s eyes. She chokes back a sob as she trudges slowly to the locker rooms, the tears salty as they find their way down her cheek to the corner of her lips. As the rest of the team flits in she sinks slowly to the ground, back against the wall. She can hear the tears from the other girls, and she wants to go over to Alex, to console her too because she’s in the same boat, but she can’t. She can’t face any of them right now.

But then she feels Tobin’s presence next to her without even looking up; she she smells the faint whiff on vanilla and sun that is somehow so  _Tobin_  and she feels her heart calm down, feels her breathing become less irregular.  _She’s here, it’s all ok. She’s here._

“Chris. Chris look at me.” Christen shakes her head though and tries to make herself smaller, but Tobin is having none of it and she crawls into Christen’s space, reaching around her shoulders so the brunette can rest her head on her chest. 

“I love you ok. I love you so much and this is not your fault. None of this is your fault,” and the tears are running down Tobin’s face as well now and Christen lets out a strangled sob as her girlfriend presses a soft kiss to the corner of her lips. 

Christen just nods and turns slightly in Tobin’s arms, manoeuvring her legs so they are hooked over Tobin’s. 

“I’m sorry,” Christen squeaks out into Tobin’s neck. “I’m so sorry. This was your tournament and I’ve ruined it for you, I’ve ruined if for everyone-” 

“Hey. No, don’t you dare do that Chris, don’t you dare. You’ve ruined nothing. You’ve trained harder than I’ve ever seen to get here, and you were put in a horrible position just then and I know it feels like this is all on you baby, but it’s not. Remember when I missed that penalty in 2011?” Christen nods slightly. “Well I felt like the world had come crashing down on me and all I wanted to do was blame myself and scream and shout and cry, but I didn’t. The team didn’t let me, and we’re not going to let you do that now. We’re going to show you how amazing and irreplaceable you are on this team. And Chris?” Christen raises her teary eyes to Tobin’s as she looks for an answer, nodding. “I didn’t have you in 2011, but you have me now and I promise you that I am going to be there for you and I’m never going to let you go to sleep crying over this. I’m not going anywhere ok. We’re in this together. We’re all in this together.”

Christen’s eyes look to the floor but her body finds Tobin’s and she fits herself further into Tobin like she always does, holding her impossibly close. “Ok,” she breathes. “Ok.”  

She loses track of how long she sits there on the cold floor with Tobin’s arms around her, the comforting presence of a love and a hand to hold, arms that would never let her go and the breath of a voice that could calm even the worst demons.


End file.
